I’ve learned from the women I care for that it’s never an easy decision and I’m grateful I can help them at a difficult time
I slip out through the back door of the clinic, cut through the car park and cross to the far side of the road. I pick intently at the angry blisters emerging on the thumb and index finger of my operating hand, then shift my concentration to rummaging in my bag for my phone. Anything to avoid catching the eye of the protestors gathering on the opposite pavement, brandishing their gruesome placards of foetal parts.
I can’t say this is exactly what I had in mind when I was 17 and writing my Ucas application, full of idealism and pride to be applying for such a noble profession. Probably not what my parents were thinking of either – it doesn’t make for great dinner party conversation having an abortion doctor for a daughter.
I have heard 21 stories of 21 decisions, some agonising, others more straightforward, but not one of them taken lightly
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